I could not sleep to save my life the night before. I was not scared about the surgery, it was not the fear keeping me up, although I thought that would be the reason. I thought I was going to be up scared about the pain, about the outcome, etc. Instead I was stressing about recovery. I wanted everything cleaned and organized. You know, trying to worry about thing I had on control over. Would you expect anything less from me? I was worrying about things being in arm reach since I would not be able to bend or reach things high up. I was worrying about everything being organized and clean since I knew people would be in and out of the house. I had all sorts of emotions. I was just a basket case. Making sure everyone knew how much I loved them, making sure everything was in place God forbid I did not come home. Yeah, I definitely thought like that. I remember taking my nightly walk around the block on the phone with my twin sister and telling her how I had written notes to loved ones God forbid something happened. Making sure she was on top of everything because she more than anyone I know is able to put her emotions aside and take charge when something tragic happens. I had to prepare for all of that. I mean my neck surgery truly left me with some type of post traumatic mindset. Not even a scared feeling, just a freaking emotional basket case feeling. Okay enough with the mindset before surgery because I am even getting emotional thinking of how emotional I was. I guess I am “extra” to some. But truthfully I am a worrier, and even though I try to always think positive, I also always try to be real.
We got to the hospital right on time. Even though we left with lots of time to spare, we literally got there right for 7:00 am when we were told to. I guess I had forgotten what I95 traffic was like. It was my first time at Norwalk hospital. I was so used to the hospitals in Bridgeport and this was just different. Yes, Different. In a very good way. The staff were amazing. Not just the desk staff and security, but the nurses came in one by one and introduced themselves saying that they would be in the operating room. Yes, one by one…I can think of like half a dozen. Then the anesthesiologist came in and it was not just a “Hi I am your doctor, bye” but he stayed there and conversed and was just awesome. They all literally made me so comfortable. They kept coming in and asking me if we had heard from the surgeon. It was about an hour after the surgery was supposed to start. I guess he had called the hospital, but they had not relayed it to the nurses and doctors working with us. Not his fault at all.
Then there he was, the man of the hour…literally. I was so happy to see him because this meant it was about to happen. Like my surgery was going to start as soon as he was ready. He told me to stand up, I lifted my gown and he drew the markings on me. Yes, just like you see on TV. It was just like that. Exactly how I expected. Seems like that is the only part of surgery and recovery that actually matches what you see on TV, but ill get to that later. He then left, and a few minutes later they came to take me away. I said “wait, I need to say my goodbyes”. I started crying and I gave the two most important people to me a hug and a kiss…and of course, a fist pump to the one person in this world who gets what that meant. It’s this sacred bond. You get me, I got you type of bond. A dynamic duo type of bond. A bond that you legit feel in your soul. (I am now getting that lump in my throat and tears in my eyes even explaining that bond because there is nothing in this world that compares to the feeling of someone who gets you). Because I asked to be sedated before Anesthesia and surgery…being wheeled away was the last thing I remember until I woke up.